Later on, if it turns to chaos
by WaltzMatildah
Summary: The aftermath of Izzie's death. How do her friends react, both with each other and in their own relationships. AlexIzzie, MerDer, OwenCris, MarkLexie. Also, Bailey and the Chief.
1. Later on, if it turns to chaos

**Pairings/Characters: **Alex/Izzie (implied), Cristina, Meredith, Callie, general cast.

**Rating: **PG

**Spoilers: **Season 5 (including the promo for S05E18)

**Summary/Warning: **A series of conversations that lead up to Izzie's death and the immediate fall out from that.

**Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libellous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

**Later on, if it turns to chaos...**

* * *

"Thank you..."

Izzie's voice is loud in the stillness of the empty room. Cristina isn't sure what shocks her more, the words or the fact that Izzie is here at all. She hadn't heard her enter, had been entirely lost inside her own head.

"What?"

"I didn't say it before, and I should have done. And I'm sorry, so... thank you."

It's hard for Cristina. Hard for her to hear this. She can do the medical planning, the arranging of specialists, the tests, the results, the odds. She can do all of that. She can't do gratitude and thanks. Not eloquently anyway and because she recognises this and because she knows that now is _so_ not about her, she says nothing.

"I told you because I didn't know what else to do."

The door closes behind Izzie with a soft click and she leans her back against it, slides down until her chin is on her knees.

"And, I'm sorry that I blew off the oncologist but I panicked okay? I panicked and I froze and I couldn't go..."

"It's okay."

Cristina needs to stop where this conversation is heading but seriously doubts that she can, has her suspicions confirmed not seconds later...

"No. No it's _not_ okay. _Nothing_ about this is _okay_..."

Izzie is crying, a constant stream of tears down her cheeks and onto the knees of her scrub pants. Cristina is fairly certain that she is not aware of them. It's almost more disconcerting than the conversation. Almost.

"I told you because I thought you would know what to do. Because you always _know_ what to do. And you did. You did know, like I knew you would. You knew exactly what I needed to do but I still couldn't..."

"Izz, you really need to tell Alex."

"I can't. He's so happy at the moment, everything is going so well for him..."

"Everything is not going well for him, Izz. His girlfriend is sick, _really_ sick. He doesn't know it yet but everything is _not_ going well for him."

"I know..."

It is whispered, the _I know_... resigned and scared.

"You need to tell him..."

"I know..."

"And you need to see the oncologist..."

"I know...but...I can't..."

"Izzie..."

She looks up now, eyes Cristina with fresh determination. The tears are still there, Izzie is still unaware of them. They make Cristina feel nauseaus.

"I can't do this to him, Cristina. So much _crap_ has happened to him, crap that none of us know anything about... I can't _be_ one more of those crappy things that always happens to him..."

* * *

"Is it true?"

Izzie is still where Cristina left her. She stayed so that Cristina could tell Alex where to find her.

"Is what true? Alex?"

She is stalling. She knows exactly what Alex is talking about. She just hasn't had time to come up with the right answers yet. Answers that won't break him.

"Cristina... she said... is it true?"

She takes a deep breath, steals herself. There is already a look on Alex's face. It's all happening much faster than she thought it would. She wants to change her mind, she wants to take it back. To take back asking Cristina to tell Alex, to take back telling Cristina at all.

Mostly she wants to take it back so that Alex will stop looking at her like her head is about to explode... like his own chest has already exploded.

She wants to take it back for all of them, but it's too late for that.

"Alex... I'm..."

"No."

The severity of the word delivery confuses her. _No?_ What does he mean, no? Does he know something she doesn't?

"No?"

"No, don't say it... I don't.... just don't... if you don't say it..."

Then she realises, it's a _no_ of denial. She has tried a few of those out herself recently. They don't work. They never work. When there is cancer in your brain and on your skin and in your liver you can deny all you like but you can't run so it doesn't work.

Alex can run. He doesn't have cancer in his brain or on his skin or in his liver. His heart is breaking but you can run with a broken heart. Typically, broken hearts can run really fast.

"Alex, please. Alex stop. Please."

* * *

"Karev!"

Cristina is waiting for him. She knows he will come. She knows he will like she has choreographed the moves herself, and maybe she has.

"Get out of my way."

She doesn't. She stands defiant and taking up as much space as she can. Her hands are on her hips and she tries her best to stare him down. She is not scared and there is a bandage on her arm that reminds her. She is not scared.

"Alex. Don't do this. Not now... now is not the time...'

He's not listening, she can see that perfectly clearly. In fact, she's surprised that he's even seeing. He is shaking viciously, trembling almost. His hand are on his face and in his hair, clenched at his sides and raised in front of him. Never still.

"I said get out of my..."

It's quieter this time. More desperation and less aggression. He's winding down. She has a feeling that when he crashes, which he will, it will be a spectacular show. She just hopes to God that she's not there to bear witness.

"No. I won't get out of your way. I won't let you leave. Turn around Alex, turn around and go back..."

He's crying too. Silent silver tracks that match Izzie's in every way. Alex is crying for himself and so was she.

She refuses to look at them. She takes a step back instead. Blocks the path he was planning a little to her left.

"Yang..."

She takes a deep breath. Prepares for the fight.

"Alex, I swear to God... turn around and go back or I can promise you, you will never forgive yourself..."

"I can't..."

Something snaps in her, she slaps his face with her words.

"You think this is about _you_? You think I care what you think _you_ can't do? Turn around, Alex. Turn around and go back."

* * *

"Mer... when you died did you..."

Meredith cuts her off before she can get any further than that.

"Izzie don't, don't start talking like that..."

She rounds the kitchen counter and helps Izzie down onto a stool. Gestures towards the coffee she has just made and then grabs a second cup as Izzie smiles a yes in her direction.

"Where is Alex?"

Izzie sighs and run a hand, bruised from constant IVs, through her hair.

"Asleep, finally...he..."

She trails off, like she can't seem to find the right words. Meredith knows exactly what she means anyway.

"Yeah... I know. I've noticed."

Izzie reaches for the coffee Meredith has placed in front of her, but holds onto it, doesn't take a sip. It's a symbolic gesture. They both know she isn't going to drink it. Their days seem filled with symbolic gestures lately.

"You know, when I first found out I told Cristina that I couldn't tell Alex because I didn't want to be another one of the many crappy things that have happened to him...'

Meredith looks up, curious about where this is headed.

"...but I'm going to be aren't I Mer? I'm going to destroy him."

Meredith knows there is no question here. Simply statement of fact. She _is_ going to destroy him, one way or another and Alex is never going to be the same.

* * *

Callie is already home, ensconced on the couch with a glass of red, when Cristina comes in. She offers up a cheerful _hey_ and gets a slammed door in response.

Cristina reappears after a few minutes, grabs at the glass Callie has filled for her on the coffee table and raises it in Callie's direction.

"Everything okay?"

"Yes... No... crap. I don't know."

There is frustration in her words, an inability to explain, even to herself, exactly what is going on. Cristina takes a long sip, feels the alcohol slide down her throat, imagines it seeping into her blood stream.

"It's so weird at work these days."

Callie nods but doesn't speak. She has felt it too.

"It must be even weirder for you."

Cristina eyes Callie, waits for a reaction, doesn't get one.

"Not really. I mean, I guess a little but... it was all a long time ago now. Hell, it seems like years..."

Cristina nods, understands. Last week feels like a year ago.

"And this... well... you don't wish this on anyone. Not even people who sleep with your husband."

* * *

Meredith sinks down onto the couch beside Alex and slides the remote control out of his lax grip. He has an open beer on the coffee table but she can see from the condensation on its side that he's not touched it since he sat down. It's the first time they have both been home together in weeks it seems. Izzie's mother and George are keeping tonights vigil at Seattle Grace.

"Why won't she fight?"

Meredith struggles against the urge to sigh. She has had this conversation with him more times now than she can count.

"You think she's not fighting?"

He nods his head and then keeps nodding, like he's simply forgotten how to stop again. His fear is palpable, Meredith can almost taste it in the air, feel it on her skin.

"She won't talk to me and she's not fighting hard enough and..."

She cuts him off because he can go on like this for hours. She knows this from previous experience.

"Alex, Izzie is fighting this with every ounce of her strength. You can't see it because you're too close. You're too close, Alex but you need to believe me. She's fighting. She's still fighting..."

"What if it's not enough?"

She knows what he is really asking. _What if she dies? _There is an unspoken agreement that they don't dare mention the 'd' word, but there is a saying she heard once, a long time ago, it stayed with her because the imagery was gruesome. _There are many ways to skin a cat, Meredith. Many ways._ She thinks Alex asking this is just him finding a different way to skin the cat. It all means the same thing in the end, no matter how you dress it up.

She thinks Alex probably doesn't want to hear about skinning cats right now.

"And by questioning that _you're_ not fighting. She can't fight by herself, Alex. She can't do this by herself because you're right, she can fight as hard as she likes but it probably still won't be enough, which is why we have to fight with her. _You_ have to fight with her."

"But what if _I'm_ not enough?"

She has no answer for this because she knows that _she_ has never been enough.

And she doesn't believe that Alex is going to be enough this time either.

But she won't say that.

They have unspoken rules about saying stuff like that.

* * *

The nod Alex gives, first to Izzie's mother and then, once reciprocated, to Dr. Bailey is enough for her to know that now is the time.

It takes forty seven seconds for the monitor to flatline. Callie knows this because she counts them, one by one, in her head. She is ready for the sound when it comes, is expecting it, is waiting for it.

It is still shocking.

She is, however, not ready for Alex.

"I changed my mind... Quick. I changed my mind."

He is reaching for something, there are too many people in the room for her to see properly but suddenly he is leaning over Izzie, compressing her chest. The monitor is suddenly making pathetic beeps in time with his movements.

"Alex..."

"No. Meredith, help me. I changed my mind."

The room had been so silent before, now it is a chasm, reverberating with Alex's shouts.

"Doctor Karev..."

Bailey speaks up to her left but Callie is fairly certain she is the only one who hears.

"Help me? Please? Meredith? George? I changed my mind... I changed my mind...I changed my..."

He is repeating his last sentence as a mantra in time with his movements. Pressing down once on _changed_ and then again on _mind_. Like the only person he really wants to tell this to is Izzie. Like he is beating the rythmn of it into her, making sure she knows.

"Alex... come on... you can't do this..."

"Izz, Izzie, please. Wake up. Please wake up. I changed my mind. I'm sorry, I'm sorry I told them to do it, but I've changed my mind... Izzie wake up..."

It is physically painful to watch. Izzie's mother leaves the room and George follows, it is too much for them. It is almost too much for her. Meredith and Cristina are off to one side, the Chief is behind them. Bailey is closest but appears frozen, like she can't move, can't speak. No one is moving and no one is speaking.

Except Alex.

Callie has seen this happen before. She has been witness to this level of grief. Only last time the person who fixed it all is now the person needing to be fixed. No one moves and no one speaks and so it comes down to her.

"Alex..."

"Don't touch me... Torres, I swear to God... don't touch me..."

She takes another step forward anyway, places a hand on his shoulder. He doesn't flinch and he doesn't stop. She doubts he has even noticed.

"Alex...Alex, listen to me. You did this for her once. When she needed you to take control for her you did it. Let me do it for you."

She has both hands on his shoulders now. His shirt is sweat soaked and his muscles are tight and hot under her fingertips.

"No. No. I changed my mind."

"Alex, come on... she's gone Alex, you need to stop. You need to stop."

He slows down, but doesn't stop. His breaths are coming ragged and harsh across lips wet and slick with tears and snot. She thinks that if she can't talk him down now it probably won't matter because he will hyperventilate and pass out soon anyway.

And maybe that would be best for everyone.

"Alex, she's okay now... she's not hurting any..."

"Don't... don't talk to me like I'm one of them... I'm not... I know... okay? I _know_, but I changed my mind..."

"Doctor Karev..."

The Chief has moved to the position opposite Callie, on the other side of the bed. She looks up at him, meets his eyes momentarily and notes for the first time that he suddenly looks _old_. Old and tired.

"Why did it have to be _my_ decision? Why did you make me choose? You made me choose and I didn't want to... I didn't want to choose this, I _don't_ choose this... You made me choose and I killed her..."

She squeezes her fingernails into his shoulders as he speaks, closes her eyes to keep control of herself. She can't imagine having to do what he has just done. She can't imagine living with the weight of that.

"Alex, no..."

"Yes, yes I did. You made me choose and I chose to let her die..."

There is a devastating amount of truth in that.

Alex stops as quickly as he had started. Still no one moves. The air is thick and viscous and he cuts a swath through it as he strides to the doorway before turning back to them, daring them to deny it.

"I chose to let her die and now I can't take it back."

TBC


	2. Now we're here and it's turned to chaos

**Pairings/Characters: **Alex/Izzie (implied), Meredith/Derek, Cristina/Owen (implied), Mark/Lexie, Bailey, Chief.

**Rating: **PG

**Spoilers: **Season 5 (including the promo for S05E18)

**Summary/Warning: **Immediately following Izzie's death. How do her friends get though their loss...

**Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libellous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

**Now we're here and it's turned to chaos (2/2)**

* * *

There is a crash in the hallway, loud, metallic.

At first no one moves.

And then Cristina runs. And a month ago Callie would have found that weird, but today, after _this,_ after everything she has seen, Cristina chasing Alex seems perfectly natural.

Meredith follows eventually, it is only seconds later but it feels like a lifetime. Callie can't figure out where to look, eventually chooses to simply close it all out.

A hand brushes her arm, gently but with purpose. She opens her eyes again to find the room almost completely cleared out and is surprised to find herself relieved.

"Help me?"

Miranda's plea is not pitiful for Miranda is never pitiful. It is, however, full of despair and a silent, simmering form of devastation. Callie knows this group was always special to her, no matter how much she grumbled about them, no matter how much extra curricular drama they created for her.

She nods silently, not trusting her voice, and moves to help Miranda rid Izzie Stevens of the machinery that had been keeping her alive.

She doesn't need it anymore.

* * *

Miranda does not know what has taken place over the last hour and she sincerely doubts that she will ever be privy to the information. She wonders breifly whether she would want to know anyway, decides she probably doesn't.

As she watches them decend the stairs in a pack she is startled into a long forgotten memory of another night, another time. Only now it is not prom night and there are no fairytale pink dresses, no balloons of silver and white. The result has been the same but tonight has been infinitely sadder, infinitely more personal, infinitely more shocking.

Again, there is no happy ending here.

She knows they must see her but they give no indication that they do. Their movements seem choreographed, like something other than themselves is in complete control. She can already see what is going to happen next, can sense the pure inevitability of it.

She thinks, ultimately, that the real losers in this situation aren't even going to see it coming. It will be gradual, subtle but it will be irreversible and impenetrable.

Alex Karev is in the centre, ghostlike and being held up by the three bodies flanking him. None of them touch and none of them speak but at the same time they are all over each other, supporting, encouraging. No one will be left behind.

She knows their friendship is of a rare breed.

"What do you think we should be prepared for?"

The deep voice stuns her and she turns, surprised to find Richard by her side.

"The residents, you know them the best... what should we be prepared for?"

There is hope in his eyes, he sincerely thinks she has all the answers.

"To be honest, sir? I have absolutely no idea. But I do know that it won't be pretty."

She sighs and drags a hand across her face, notes him nodding his apparent agreement.

"That much I definitely do know," she finishes.

* * *

Derek can already feel it happening. It is only by degrees but it is happening nonetheless.

During the fleeting moments that Alex actually sleeps he does so upright and in an armchair, like he can't lay down and George sits on the porch for hours at a time, unable to bring himself to even enter the house. Cristina seems to have moved in and Lexie is conspicuous only by her absence. Meredith seemed to think this is all completely normal.

The four of them communicate constantly, though they very seldom speak. It is a language Derek doesn't understand and, so far, no one has been willing to teach him.

Alex is on the couch watching the muted television. The lack of sound is starting to make Derek stir crazy.

"Alex?"

There is no indication he has been heard, no shift in posture, no facial twitch. Just stony, silent stillness.

"Alex, I'm sorry about everything," Derek starts to move towards the couch, sits down at what he judges to be an appropriate distance from where Alex is stiffly perched, "If there's anything..."

"Don't."

The word is barked, venomous. Derek feels like he's been slapped.

Alex stands abruptly and strides from the room, he hears thundering on the stairs and a door slam on a different floor before scrubbing his hands across his face and releasing a frustrated sigh.

"What did you say to him?"

Meredith has appeared in the doorway, materialising as silently as she does everything else these days, from somewhere else in the house. The sound of her voice shocks him, it is rough from lack of use and shed tears.

"Nothing, I just said I was sorry..."

"For what?" She cuts him off, accusingly and then goes silent, expecting an answer he can't find the words for.

"I don't know, for everything I guess..."

"It wasn't your fault."

Again her tone is confrontational, like she is trying to find a fight where there really isn't one.

"I know, but... I don't know. He's been so quiet today. I don't think I've heard him speak once until..." Derek trails off, not entirely convinced the _don't_ he'd just heard qualifies as a sentence, "I thought he might want to..."

"Derek, he buried his girlfriend today, he doesn't have to speak if he doesn't have anything to say."

"I know, but it's not just that he's not speaking, he's not eating, he's not sleeping, he's not doing _anything_..."

"He's fine."

"He is far from fine. You said it yourself, he buried his girlfriend today, he is far from fine."

"He's fine, Cristina, George and I are taking care of him."

He notes the names. Wonders briefly if his exclusion is deliberate and decides it probably is.

Derek sighs again, attempts a different tack.

"So how are you holding up? The service was..."

"I'm fine too."

"Meredith..."

"I am. I'm fine." She plasters a wide, fake grin across her face that doesn't even go close to touching her eyes, it makes Derek feel ill.

"See? I'm fine," she forces, unconvincing and not caring in the slightest, "I'm going to find Alex."

"Yes..." Derek intones to her retreating back, sarcasm heavy, '...we buried Izzie Stevens today but we are all just _fine_..."

* * *

They move through the hospital like a silent regiment. Separating only when their jobs dictate that they must. They are an army but they are professional, even Owen will concede that. He is fascinated by their transformation, it is complete and happens almost seemingly over night. He is unsure of his position in Cristina's life now, wonders dejectedly whether he still occupies one at all.

When together they have taken on an almost reverent air, conversations stop as they walk past, groups scatter to allow them space. He understands their command, their presence, he was a part of something similar once. It will crack eventually, it always does.

"Do they speak to you?"

Derek is suddenly beside him, Owen understands the real question _does Cristina speak to you? _Owen sympathises with him, he knows there was a ring, once.

"Not unless she has to," is his reply, and Derek nods, agrees.

"They're in denial, all of them, it's not healthy."

"I don't think it's denial," Owen counters, and it's the truth, he doesn't. "I think they're completely aware of what has happened, of how easily it happened, how quickly. I don't think they're in denial at all, but I do agree that it's not healthy, whatever this is..."

"What should we do?"

"We wait."

"For what?"

"The turning point, and there will be one. Eventually. Until then we just have to wait, and prepare ourselves to deal with it when it comes."

"What if we're too late?"

"We won't be," he answers with unexplainable confidence.

* * *

"I'm pretty sure Meredith has forgotten that I exist"

Lexie whispers the words into the dark. She doesn't even know if Mark is awake, she kind of hopes that he's not. She hates herself for thinking this way, it feels selfish, immature.

They have both been living at the hotel for weeks now. It had been a natural progression, one she's fairly certain only Derek has noticed. Lexie's clothes are no longer in the attic, her car is no longer on the street. Nobody has said a word.

Mark turns, meets her eyes in the dim light and runs his fingers gently down the side of her face. Quite obviously as unable to sleep as she is.

"I think it's exactly the opposite to that," he murmurs, shifting his position and pulling her into a tight embrace, "I think they, all four of them, I think they've forgotten that _they_ exist."

"What do you mean?"

"They're like zombies, the way they walk around the hospital. It's freaky, it freaks me out. They have entire conversations without even opening their mouths..."

His voice rumbles deep in his chest, Lexie presses her ear flush against his warm skin and closes her eyes, intent to listen for now.

"...I don't think I've seen them eat, Karev looks like he hasn't slept in years. They're zombies. You and I? We're existing, they... they... hell, I have no idea what you would call what they are doing..."

It comes in a rush and Lexie wonders if Mark has been thinking about this a lot. She is surprised by his level of intuition sometimes. She finds lots of things about him surprising these days.

"I had a feeling... about patient X, I couldn't explain it but..."

She has had even more trouble with this than with the apparent sisterly abandonment. Their reactions to the end diagnosis, the reaction of her fellow interns, what was said, _how_ it was said, makes her feel sick to her stomach, even now.

Mark runs his fingers through her hair, encouraging her to keep going. She hasn't spoken to anyone about this yet.

"I went back to see her, after we'd presented the diagnosis. She was taking all the scans down and she asked me what I would say, how I would break the news to the patient. I think, now, looking back, she needed to hear it like that, not just clinically... needed to hear it in a way that she could relate to."

"What did you say?"

"Um, she put me on the spot a bit, I wasn't sure. I ended up babbling about how odds are crap. That my mom died from the hiccups and how stupid was that and that the patient, whoever she was, she should fight because odds are crap. Something like that."

"Are you sure you babbled?" Mark teases, planting a kiss in her hair, "I can't imagine you babbling at all..."

She smiles into his skin, tastes the salt of tears she didn't even know she had shed.

"As I was walking out she said _thank you_, just like that... it seemed kinda odd at the time, it wasn't offhanded, she really meant it. I'm glad now... that I went back to see her after."

She nods to herself, confirming and squeezes her eyes closed against tears that are now coming freely.

"I'm really glad that I went back," she finishes in a whisper.

* * *

Alex is asleep on his folded arms when Cristina arrives for lunch. Meredith is opposite him, reading and chewing absently on Alex's abandoned fries. She slides quietly into the seat next to him, raises her eyebrows in silent question to Meredith who simply shrugs an equally silent response in return. There is no need for words, for sentences, they are beyond the need for those these days.

"Dr. Yang..."

Owen is suddenly beside Cristina but he doesn't get his request completely vocalised before Alex jerks awake violently, lurching upright abruptly and with a loud intake of breath that verges on a scream. His chair flies backwards, lands on its side with a metallic clatter that reverberates in the now silent cafeteria. His eyes are wild, searching for focus and she steals a quick glance at Meredith who has frozen, fry half-way to her mouth, eyes wide and confused.

He is upright for maybe a second before his expression fades and his face ghosts, he sways once and Meredith calls his name, panicked, trying to reach across the table to grab him.

She is bumped roughly to the side as Owen reaches around her and grabs a handful of Alex's lap coat with one hand, wraps the other around his bicep. George has appeared and is moving to get purchase on his other side.

Cristina is frozen, she can't move and she can't breathe. The noise, the yelling, it is deafening.

Alex slumps in a sideways motion, and it is only Owen's hold of his bicep that stop his chin smashing into the table top.

"Alex? Hey, Karev? You with us?"

She can hear Owen's frantic calls, sees George stand and be replaced by Meredith at Alex's other side. He starts to stir under their hands, breathing harshly, still white as a sheet.

"Alex, it's okay. I'm here," Meredith chants, finding her voice as Alex starts to struggle out of their hold. She forces his head down between his knees, quietly encouraging him to breathe slowly.

Cristina feels like she is watching a scene in a movie play out. Meredith is pushing Owen off without looking at him and wrapping her small frame around Alex's much bigger one on the floor, her body entwining so completely with his that it becomes impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins. She is unsure when his hitched breaths turn to heaving sobs but they do and the sound is like fingernails down a blackboard. It makes her blood run cold.

* * *

"You were right, you know?"

Derek visibly startles as Meredith approaches him and it takes her a moment to realise that she rarely initialises conversations with him anymore, he has every right to be startled.

"What about?"

His reply is guarded, cautious and she wonders when he became so wary of her.

"Alex, he's not fine. Not just Alex, none of us I guess... but him mostly..." she trails off, still shaken somewhat by earlier events. She can remember the feel of him trembling beneath her, the track of his tears pooling in her hand as she held his head close to her. They shocked her, the tears, she couldn't remember seeing him cry yet, and maybe that should have been a bigger clue.

"What happened?"

She is shocked to discover that he doesn't already know and, almost instantly, grateful that Hunt must have managed to keep something of a lid on it.

"Alex freaked out in the cafeteria at lunchtime."

"Is he okay?"

She shakes her head, _no_. Unable to voice the confirmation out loud. Some habits are harder to break.

Derek wraps an arm around her, pulls her towards a closed door, an on-call room. They enter and he sits, she leans her back against the wall. Remains standing.

"Are _you_ okay?"

Derek asks the question quietly, genuinely. Earnest smpathy lighting his eyes in the dim shadows of the poorly lit room. But she can't answer that...

"He's been sedated, he's sleeping now..."

She hears rather than sees Derek's reaction, a long, drawn out exhale.

"Like I said, you were right. He wasn't coping, not even close."

"I didn't want to be right, you know that don't you?"

She nods because she does. She can see it more clearly now.

"I know. Izzie would be devastated... if she could see him... I think we've failed her, the rest of us..."

There is a pause and neither of them moves to deny her thoughts. There can be no denying her thoughts.

"Are you okay?"

He repeats his earlier question and she lifts her eyes to meet his, it feels like the first time in forever.

"Not really...but I will be, I'm pretty sure..."

She trails off with a faint smile, sees it mirrored in one on his face.

"Wanna head home?"

She can hear the tentativeness in his voice and feels fleetingly guilty, certain without doubt that she is entirely responsible for putting it there.

She knows she can relax in the knowledge that Alex is being looked after so she nods, _yes_.

"But can we just check upstairs first?"

Just because she knows doesn't it mean she doesn't need to see it for herself.

It's not as easy as that. She doesn't want it to be as easy as that.

Izzie Stevens meant so much more to them than that.

The End.


End file.
